


Rabbit

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Mob AU [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Mob, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 07:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12249450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: " 'Calm down, or else next time they are going to put a bullet through your skull and the skull of everyone you care about.' Jack shows his teeth, trying to cow Rhys into understanding the severity of his words but the omega is just freaking out, shaking in Jack’s arms in the aftershocks of adrenaline, blood still splattered from neck to lapel and Jack needs to do something different or else Rhys is never going to learn how to manage himself in this business."————Jack helps Rhys recover his wits after an attempted assassination.





	Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> Another Mob AU installment! This time with some NSFW. Enjoy!

Jack didn’t understand how one could be the son of a mob boss and not be used to the sight of blood.

He supposed that Rhys, in his status as a high class omega, kept like a treasure to be bartered between bosses for the sake of alliance, may have been shielded away from the grit and gore of his family’s business.

But whatever Rhys had been used to, it was now far in the past. Before his father had been slain in that crowded train terminal and before Rhys had been thrust up into the position so quick it had  made the omega’s head spin.

Things had changed, and this was no time to be so  _squeamish_.

Some thick-headed opportunist had tried to rush Rhys as he was walking out the courthouse and into his waiting limousine. Jack had shot him in the blink of an eye as he’d raised a hand, armed with little more than a child’s penknife. Blood had splattered all over Rhys’, soaking into his navy peacoat and staining his porcelain skin. Panic had broken through the crowd, and amidst the screaming and shouting Jack had shoved Rhys into the car, shouting orders to the driver as he pushed Rhys down in his seat, protectively pinning the omega to the leather.

Minutes have passed since Jack shot the would-be assassin but Rhys is still panicking, his breath still struggling to come to his lips. His gun is still warm against his thigh, the blood still fresh on Rhys’ body. Jack can feel the omega’s heart beat furiously against his own chest, fighting to break out of his ribcage.

“You need to learn to calm down,” Jack growls, pressing his forehead against Rhys’, feeling the young man’s panicked breaths against his lips. Rhys lets out an upset little mewl, unable to form words as he frantically shakes his head.

“ _Calm down_ , or else next time they are going to put a bullet through your skull and the skull of everyone you care about.” Jack shows his teeth,  _trying_  to cow Rhys into understanding the severity of his words but the omega is just freaking out, shaking in Jack’s arms in the aftershocks of adrenaline, blood still splattered from neck to lapel and Jack needs to do something different or else Rhys is  _never_ going to learn how to manage himself in this business.

So he grasps the omega’s wrists, holding him flush against the leather seats, and presses their lips together.

Jack deftly swallows the strangled sound of surprise that comes from Rhys’ throat, unrelenting as he presses tightly against the omega. He feels Rhys’ tense thighs slowly spread apart, accommodating the alpha’s bulk as Jack lays over him like a thick, warm blanket. Gradually he releases Rhys’ wrists, his own want edging against his need to calm the omega down. He placed his hands on Rhys’ waist, undoing the buttons of his peacoat and untucking his dress shirt from his pants. His palms were soon smoothing over Rhys’ stomach, prompting the omega to pull away from Jack’s lips, staring dumb from where Jack was touching him to the alpha’s eyes.

“W….What are you doing?’ Rhys asks slowly, as if his brain is still trying to catch up even as his arousal is mid-stride alongside Jack’s.

“Calming you down.” Jack mumbles throatily, before he leans in and kisses against Rhys’ lower lip, capturing it briefly in a bite that makes the young man gasp.

Rhys does little in the way of protest after that, body undulating up against Jack’s bulk as the bodyguard continues to divest him of his clothes. Despite the nigh unreasonable size of Rhys’ limousine, it’s still a little awkward and cramped on the seats, especially as Jack tries to get the omega out of his pants. Slick is already pooling between the omega’s spread thighs, soaking through the crotch of the garment as Jack finally gives up, settling on grasping Rhys’ little pink cock in his palm and giving it a firm squeeze.

“J-Jack!” Rhys cries, most likely loud enough for the driver to hear them through the dark glass divider. Jack’s lack of control might bite him in ass later on, but if the driver knows what’s good for him he won’t dare try anything to risk Jack’s bullet.

One of Rhys’ hands curls into the leather of the seats, leaving long rough lines as his nails snare into the expensive upholstery. The other rakes through Jack’s hair, leaving his ashen brown locks red and tacky with the blood still wet on Rhys’ palm.

As soon as Jack’s own cock is out, he grasps it and Rhys’ together, stroking them both off in tandem with expert fingers, keeping himself balanced even as the limousine eases between moving and idling.

“I—I— _Jack_ —“ Rhys tries to speak in between gasps, his voice high-pitched, wound tight like a harp string. His scarf—a silky, heather blue—has wrapped around his neck like a noose in their tussle, delicate fabric rising and falling with the movement of his throat.

“Easy, зайчик,” Jack murmurs low, voice husky and deep as he jerks them both off together. Moans cut into his own breathing as he feels something heavy and warm curl around in his stomach, so different from those long cold nights in his room when his hands drift around his own, well-worn form. Rhys’ cock is so velvety smooth, his ass so slick and round and  _tempting_ , his adrenaline so new and freshly wound, so ready to burst outwards like a broken dam.

There are still droplets of blood clinging to the tips of Rhys’ eyelashes, curving them down with their weight. Jack kisses his eyelids and his lips come away spotted with red.

By the time the limousine slows to its final stop, presumably deep inside Rhys’ complex, the young man is lying limp and satisfied beneath Jack, his still-gloved hands stroking affectionately over the back of Jack’s neck as the bodyguard nuzzled aside his scarf and pressed against his throat, chuffing hot air against the young omega’s bobbing Adam’s apple. Jack has wiped away most of the cum with his silken handkerchief, though the blood now smeared against both of their bodies is dry and flaking and will require more than a cursory scrub to remove their stain.

Jack lifts his head, the light scruff on his chin prickling against Rhys’ chin as he kisses the omega’s lips. Rhys lets out a small, almost boyish chuckle as he kisses Jack back, a dreamy, trusting smile crawling across the omega’s face as he looks back at his lover.

“Trust you are calmer now. Yes?” Jack asks as Rhys’ fingers stroke through the hair at the base of his neck.

“Yeah…you could say that…” Jack slips his hand gingerly underneath Rhys’ upper body, helping the omega sit up from the leather seats, still sticky with blood and slick. The entire cab smells of consummated sex, and as much as Jack knows it must be cleaned he wishes he could sink the smell of their lovemaking so deep into the car that it could never be washed away.

Rhys whines as Jack puts him back into his clothes, buttoning his shirt over his pale chest and tucking his cock back into his pants. He stubbornly wraps his arms around Jack’s neck, trying to kiss him again. Jack, reluctantly, nudges Rhys’ away, straightening out the boss’s coat until he looks presentable enough to make it up to his office with little questions.

“Later, зайчик, later.” Jack assures as he straightens his own clothing out, pressing his lips against Rhys’ temple before smoothing the omega’s hair back into place. The way Rhys looks at him as he does so sends something warm and worrying up his neck, because the young man looks more than just calm.

He looks  _smitten_.  


End file.
